Jan. 8, 1945
At last I got all the Christmas presents, which for quite a while were out of reach. They could hardly be better, and I am most grateful. The razor has already provided two shaves, as good shaves as could be expected with cold water and a small piece from a broken mirror (which I broke, and unfortunately it wasn’t mine!). The map measure was an inspiration, Ma, for both the present and the future. There are of course all sorts of maps to examine these days and for me always will be. We don’t see anything these days to equal U.S.G.S. maps for large scale or the C.A.A. for medium scale, but I have my Nat’l Geographic maps along, and they are almost undoubtedly the best small scale maps in the World. Sabine, by the way, gave me the Atlas of Global Geography by Raisz, of the Institute of Geographical Exploration, another fine job.
Nance came through with a nifty box of stuff, a balsam pillow being about the choicest item, especially as the little sprig of pine had pretty well dried out. A few Christmas cards also came, but only one, from Bob and Nouch, came from near home. No! I almost forgot to give credit to C. Lowell, so I may well have forgotten others!
Recreational opportunities continue. Two days ago the squadron’s ensigns beat the rest of us in a high scoring softball game. A volley ball court has been rigged up and also some horseshoe pits. At horseshoes I find myself rather out of practice, as was the case with softball, where, by the way, I held out at first base (one error, batting mediocre, but at least no strike outs). Doing laundry and building shelves for Quonset hut are the other “time fillers.”